


Belle Reve

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-08
Updated: 2007-03-17
Packaged: 2019-01-19 23:39:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12420588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: I was frustrated at the changes that that were taking place in my world and wanted nothing more than to just get away, re-immerse myself in my other world, the muggle world.Sometimes, one summer can change a girl's many relationships, building who she is meant to be. LE/JP





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

  
Author's notes: 1  


* * *

_Author note and small summary at the bottom. (So you can actually enjoy the story first!)_

 

**Prologue**

It was either the best or the worst summer of my life, but it inarguably remains the most memorable. I was young, naïve, and innocent, and nothing could touch me. I was invincible, carried up by the wings of magic, and the winds of adolescence. I was happy. I was free. I flew through life without caring; I had everything I ever wanted—magic, best friends, and a happy home, minus the petty arguments with my sister. Life was good, and I was satisfied. Too satisfied. 

Some say that being too comfortable with the status quo is an invitation for change. Well, nobody ever told me that. I never accepted that things must change, and we, as a family, dealt with change horribly, we, the Evans. It must be a part of our genetic make-up; change just did not agree with us. We embraced tradition and routine; we were the apple-pie-tea-and-crumpets family. We were undeniably boring, but only to those who did not know us, and our lack of affinity for change and variety led us to maintain fifteen years of summer holidays at Belle Reve. That summer, however, was the last holiday we shared there as a family.

Belle Reve was our summer holiday home on a tiny island off the coast of Spain. It was a quaint cabin, of pine and roomy sorts, placed in the most beautiful location, at the tip of the island, on a tiny peninsula that served as our sandy backyard. Petunia and I used to wake up early to watch the sunrise from the east, and then the sunset from the west from the same spot because our location allowed us to see the glowing sun rise and fall from and into the ocean.

We rented Belle Reve for the first few years, not having named it Belle Reve until later, until after Father decided to purchase it, because of our numerous excursions there. Mother was the one who chose the name Belle Reve, after a muggle play she loved. I never quite understood the meaning of the name, not having read _A Streetcar Named Desire_ until after I graduated out of Hogwarts, and even today, I fail to understand why she chose it. Perhaps it had to do with tradition, and aristocracy, or perhaps simply because my mother loved the name. Regardless, Belle Reve eventually came to represent not only the cabin, but also the beach, the forest, and the memories of childhood. It lived up to its translated meaning, a “beautiful dream,” because that was what everything ultimately became, a beautiful dream of simpler times. 

This is the first time I have been back to Belle Reve in years, back to this beach, back to this cabin, back to these memories. Sometimes I try to forget that summer because it is too painful to remember, but I always end up telling myself to look at things as how they are and take from them what I can. It is still hard though, and I believe it will always be hard, to sit in the sand and watch the turquoise waters lap the shoreline. Like waves crashing on the rocks, the memories collide behind my eyes. It is unavoidable, and I almost wish I did not let James convince me to come back. 

“Just for old times’ sake,” he had said, with that cocky grin that I have come to love. James. James was what made that summer worthwhile. He was the solitary star in those bleak two months. He was there, and he knew. He understood, and he comforted. He became my rock, an unexpected, and initially unwanted, pillar to hold to. James and I changed that summer. Our relationship changed. That summer I lost something, and I gained something. I gained James. 

James planned this holiday for us, warning me well ahead of time, and defeating my protests. He wants himself and me to grasp some appreciation of this place before our wedding; this was where we started, through the pains and hurt, and this is where we must return to, for a little while at least. But I secretly believe he wants me to find some closure, though he would never own up to that. We never talk about what happened that summer, not what happened to my family at least. But James knows me too well, and he knows that deep down, I really do need this, despite my ever-present objections. If I can’t talk about that summer, I must relive it, day by day, piece by piece. 

And so I sit barefoot on the beach and close my eyes, willing the presence of the profound silence into ponderings of the past. The salty air will do me good, I think to myself before letting go. I let my guards down and flow with it. I let the tides of memory and time carry me away, back to prior years, back to revisit those tragic weeks. I am ready, and I am strong, because I know that though the tide may carry me far away, it will always return, and I am safe in its embrace. 

 

~~~

 

_I am beginning this as a somewhat lengthy story I think. I was at the beach this afternoon, and I have been toying with the idea for this story, and everything just kind of fit together today. I have a basic idea of where I want this to go, plot-wise, but as for minor details and character and everything else, I'm going with the flow. I'm thinking "the flow" won't be contradictory. heh._

_So I'm guessing you would like a summary, because this is just the prologue, and it leaves a lot up to question. This beginning is basically Lily reminicing about the past, and giving background details as to the setting and how she feels about what took place "that summer." This story is going to span a summer, the summer between Lily and James' sixth and seventh year, at a beach vacation home. Lily and James are going to have to live with each other's idiosyncrasies, and being that this is a romance story, they will fall in love, and you know....everything else that we know already. Don't be mistaken though, this is not going to be a fluffy cute story. There are themes in here that are not going to correspond with any type of happiness whatsoever (if you couldn't tell from what you just read...). What I am most looking to do, by the end of this story, however long it may take, is to show some kind of change in the characters. A shift of sorts. Not quite sure what, because like I've already said, I'm going with the flow. :)  
_

_Commenting would be really awesome, seeing as I am pretty much an amateur writer. Hopefully, my style will develop this story progresses, and your concrit would be so very cool. But don't worry, I won't be one of those who will refuse to update until I reach a certain quota of reviews. haha._

_Sorry this was so long; I wanted an adequate introduction for you guys as to what to expect.  
_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was barely the summer of 1975, and I had just returned home from my sixth year at Hogwarts. I was in somewhat of a slump, being cut off from the magical world and isolated from my friends, and the mere thought of going to Belle Reve again brought boredom and loneliness to my mind. I found that over the years, the idea of our Belle Reve vacations became less and less stimulating, less and less extraordinary. It became less of a relaxed family vacation and more of a blasted primitive retreat, a forced isolation on a deserted island without outside communication and with people from whom I was dying to get away. 

I was in that stage, you know, that stage of adolescence when everything seemed torridly overdone, and I just wanted to breathe and be myself. I was in that stage of rebellion, of rudeness, and of self-centered tunnel visions. I wanted what suited me best, and I did not stop to consider how my actions or desires might have affected my parents. They appeased me, though. They appeased me to every stretch and length, spoiled me like a little princess, and I never once remembered to thank them. I did not care how my disintegrating relationship with Petunia was breaking their hearts; I did not care how my semesters at Hogwarts left them teary-eyed over picture albums; I did not care that they held these vacations as lasting lingering memories of the non-magical Lily Evans. I simply wanted out.

It was a distinctly overcast day when I got home from Hogwarts. Mum and Dad picked me up at the train station late, as usual, and the long ride home was almost painful to endure. I raced to my room the moment we walked into the door, being so sick and tired of Petunia's incessant complaining about me being home and having to spend a summer at Belle Reve again. She was getting married soon, and didn't want to continue partaking in such antiquated family traditions. God forbid that she had any ties to me. 

Petunia was planning on marrying a Vernon Dursley, a huge oaf of a man, but fitting for her regardless. She deserved someone of his caliber, or lack thereof. Anyway, he had proposed to her only a month ago, and needless to say, she accepted with great enthusiasm, great gulping heaps of screeching enthusiasm that lasted for weeks on end. Their wedding was to be in the spring of next year, and they had planned on moving in together right after the wedding. This meant that this vacation, this traditional trek to Belle Reve, was to be the last one ever for the whole family. Looking back, I wish Petunia wasn't so obstinate in not wanting to enjoy herself. I wish I wasn't either.

I was miserable when I got home. I had to unpack my suitcases completely, before packing up for Belle Reve again, and it was a daunting task. I remember pulling out robes, books, bits of parchment-you know, relics of Hogwarts days, or rather, relics of where I would rather be-and tossing them aside. I always promised to organize them into neat little piles, but that idea usually died within the hour as the massive load piled up. It was three months, twelve weeks, an innumerable amount of days before I would be back at my beloved castle home again, and I was so, so miserable. My dire, irreversible situation seemed like it would never end. Another summer at Belle Reve. Another summer with Petunia. I suppose the only bright side was that she'll be Vermin's problem next year.

I guess all my anguish at my home-life arose from my festering relationship with Petunia. She ruined my desires of coming home for every holiday. It wasn't always like that you know, I wasn't always so against going on vacations with my family, and Petunia wasn't always so...petty. When we were young, we actually got along. She was the older sister, and she was a good one, too. She taught me how to ride my bike, and braid my hair, and all those things that older sisters are supposed to teach their younger sisters. We had a good relationship. Of course, we were never best friends, but we respected each other, and I looked up to her. She was my big sister, in all senses of what it meant. 

I suppose our relationship started going downhill when I started school. I had a natural ability to make people smile, and make people like me. I was a charismatic kid, and a cute one at that. My teachers just loved me, and I made many friends, and was popular for a child at that age. And my features stuck out. There weren't a lot of a bright, orange-headed children at my school, and I was something of a novelty item. Everyone wanted to know me, and play with me. And it was the exact opposite with Petunia. It wasn't that she was ugly, or unattractive. Petunia had her own type of charm, but she was always kind of plain, and reserved. She liked being by herself, and she always acted mature for her age. She never knew the spontaneity I loved, and she never gave things, or people, for that matter, a chance. We were complete opposites, and she was jealous. I knew she was jealous. She made it obvious, with her growing number of snide comments at the dinner table, and her outrageous acts of snubbing me in public. I was so confused at first; why in the world was my big sister acting so mean? But I was never one to stand for being pushed around. I pushed back, and hard, and if it was anything we shared in our genes, Petunia and I were both stubborn as hell. We were two forces to be reckoned with, battling with each other, day in and day out. Neither of us would let the other have the last word. In fact, the reason I hated James when I first met him was because he reminded me so much of Petunia, or rather, our bickering relationship did.

Anyway, our sibling battle was a ridiculous battle, and now, I wish I had never engaged in it. Of course, I was a child and immature and completely unable to control anything, but looking back with the wisdom of the past few years, I notice how much pain it caused, how much damage it created. I still feel animosity towards her at times, but now, I cope with it. It's becoming old, and I am getting tired of it. It ruined our parents. How it must have hurt to see such hate coming out of their only children-such hate that was directed at each other! I wish we never started it. I wish I could have a relationship with her again; she's all the blood-tie I have now.

We left for Belle Reve bright and early in the morning, a few days after summer holidays started. I slept wide-eyed in the car, gazing off in the distance, fending off the occasional kick from Petunia. It was a long trip to the beach, and an even longer one on boat. There was a sense of defeat in the trip this time. Dad didn't make any of his corny jokes, and Mum never attempted to press her homemade cornbread into our hands telling us to eat before we wasted away. It seemed like their spirits had already died, and Petunia and I had killed them. There was a look of resignation in their eyes, as if they've accepted the fact that we're never to be anything close to sisters again. Mum and Dad just gave up on us, and we were all they had, and we were slipping away. I always wonder how much we had anything to do with what happened to them, and I will always feel guilty. I don't think I will ever forgive myself.

As the deeply wooded forests of the island loomed in the horizon, my teenage thoughts became heavier and heavier. Here was to another summer. Little did I know, here was to the last summer.

*****

_So I hadn't expected on continuing this work, but is has be strung along another chapter. I'm not going to lie to you; I'm not sure if more is in store, but it is a possibility. I've changed the style form which this story will be told; it is going to be told completely from older Lily's perspective. I feel like it will seem more profound, instead of being frivolous as it was began in the third-person view._


End file.
